


Cupid's Kiss

by sydkn3e



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming Untouched, Fluff, M/M, Power Bottom Castiel, Smut, Switching, Temporary Amnesia, Top Castiel, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 22:11:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9681668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydkn3e/pseuds/sydkn3e
Summary: Seemingly perfect couples are killing each other in the small town of Ulysses, Kansas, and it's up to the boys to find out who...or what...is causing it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Knowmefirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knowmefirst/gifts).



> For Bere RJs...as part of the All Things Destiel & Cockles Facebook Group Valentine's Secret Admirer Challenge.
> 
> Special thanks to Irma Gibson Smith for volunteering to jump on the angst grenade and for being a kickass beta.
> 
> You ladies rock.

“You must eat something other than burgers and pie from time to time, Dean.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Yeah, well…”

Cas watched, irritated, as Dean shoveled another forkful of pie into his mouth. Pieces of crust stuck to his lips and crumbs littered his shirt, but he seemed unfazed.

“Seriously. It’s unhealthy. You’re going to get fat.” Cas drew his eyebrows together, frowning.

“Shaddup. ‘S treated me pretty well so far.” Dean shrugged.

Sam snorted. “He’s not wrong, Dean. And you gotta start learning to pick your battles…”

“Well this is one battle I’m picking!” Dean spoke through a mouthful of pie, his words muffled. He chewed and swallowed. “Just because we’ve confessed our feelings and all that crap, that doesn’t mean I have to start changing my ways.”

Cas cocked his head to the side. “To an extent. You made me give up my bees.”

“Aww, come on Cas, that was a bit of an irrational hobby. You got to admit.”

“I loved my bees, Dean. They were majestic and they made honey. I enjoyed caring for them.”

“Cas, I got stung more than once. And you don’t even eat honey!”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Perhaps you would not have been stung if you refrained from provoking them.”

“Provoking?!” Dean choked on his pie.

“Pick your battles, Dean.” Sam said, pursing his lips and completing his signature “bitch face”.

Dean sighed. “Fine. I’ll cut back. Happy?” He put his fork down and slid the remainder of the unusually large slice of pie across the table.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean feigned annoyance, then looked up at Cas with a smirk. “The things I do for love.”

“I assure you that I will compensate for your sacrifice in the bedroom tonight.” Cas’s face remained serious as Dean choked out a laugh and Sam made gagging noises.

Sam finally composed himself and forced a laugh. “You guys are gross.”  
________  
As an angel, sex was always something that was neither interesting nor exciting for Castiel. He simply didn’t get the same type of urges that humans did, and he was unable to understand the allure. That is, until he had sex with Dean.

Having sex with Dean, for lack of a better term, was a religious experience.

Not because he was well-practiced. Sure, that could have been part of it, but it was more than that. The connection between them, their profound bond, was unyielding. It was as if they had been doing this their entire lives, although Castiel only had the occasion once, when he was human. And it commanded a much more powerful response from both himself and Dean as an angel.

Their first time was short and sweet, and Dean had to guide and coach Castiel the whole way. He explained the use of lube and the location of the prostate, as well as the angles needed to trigger an orgasm. It was amusing to watch Dean explain anal sex to someone completely oblivious, and he blushed furiously the entire time. Cas thought he looked beautiful like that.

But not as beautiful as he looked while he straddled Cas. Not as beautiful as he looked when he held Cas’s hands in his own, pressed against the outside of his thighs as he moved slowly above him. Not as beautiful as the muscles that flexed beneath his olive-toned and freckled skin, or the numerous scars that he endured throughout the years adorning his arms and torso. Not as beautiful as his tight heat enveloping Castiel and willing his release with every agonizing movement. And definitely not as beautiful as Dean's face at the peak of his release, his mouth parted as he gasped Castiel's name, his eyebrows drawn together and his eyes closed as he came untouched, the white ribbons decorating Castiel's torso.

That alone was enough to send Castiel over the edge, and he came hard, moaning Dean's name loudly.

They made love several times since then, further solidifying their feelings for each other and discovering new ways to please one another. Much to Sam's chagrin, they both discovered how much they enjoyed making one another be as loud as possible.

And Castiel discovered a few tricks of his own to make Dean come completely undone.  
__________  
Cas ran his hands up the back of Dean's naked thighs, bringing them to rest on the globes of his ass.

“So pretty, Dean...”

Dean snorted, turning his head to look at Cas. “Pretty?” He was on his hands in knees on their bed, completely naked, save for Cas's tie around his neck.

“Yes.” Cas confirmed, then gave his right cheek a hard slap, making Dean jump and arch his back, hissing through his teeth.

“Fuck, Cas...”

Cas was wearing only a half-buttoned white shirt and socks. He pulled the socks off, then grabbed Dean's legs and flipped him over onto his back.

“Shit!” Dean exclaimed, then laughed. “Dammit, Cas. You and that angel strength.”

“You have no idea.” Cas growled, leaning over and capturing Dean's leaking cock with his mouth.

Dean hissed again through his teeth, his hips bucking up and thrusting himself deeper into Cas's mouth.

After a moment, Cas pulled off with a pop, leaving Dean gasping for more. He grabbed the tie around Dean's neck and pulled him into a kiss, their tongues entwining.

“I want you...inside me.” Cas commanded, and he grabbed their bottle of lube off the nightstand. “But first, I want you to watch me.”

Dean nodded, unable to speak. Instead he stood up and grabbed the collar of Cas's shirt, ripping it off his chest. Buttons scattered all around them.

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Eager?'

Dean nodded, a devilish smile gracing his lips. “Very.”

Cas moved past Dean and crawled onto the bed, giving Dean a full view of his round ass. He squeezed a liberal amount of lube onto his fingers and reached back, smearing it generously into the crack of his ass. When the area was coated, he focused on his hole, running a slender finger around it, the lube making a wet sound.

Dean's breath hitched in his throat, and he began stroking his own dick, watching Cas's every movement.

When Cas inserted his finger into his hole, Dean had to grab the base of his cock to keep from coming right then and there. His straining dick was leaking more precome, and Dean stared at Cas, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him.

When Dean noticed Cas's erection, hanging between his legs with sticky precome dripping from the tip, he couldn't take it anymore.

“Cas.” He rasped. “Need you.”

Cas thrust his finger in and out of his hole a few more times, moaning loudly. Then he lowerd his hand back to the bed, on all fours once more. He looked back at Dean and lowered the upper half of his body, sticking his ass in the air, and pushing it back towards Dean.

Dean growled and kneeled behind Cas on the bed, mounting him. He rubbed the tip of his dick around Cas's puckered hole, enjoying the tight muscles fluttering at his contact.

He watched in awe as he pushed his tip into the tight ring of muscles, his jaw going slack. Cas moaned again, his deep register only serving to turn Dean on even more.

Dean began to push in slowly, savoring every second of Cas's tight heat. When he was only a little over an inch inside him, Cas thrust back against him, hard, burying his cock to the hilt.

“Fuck! Cas!” Dean gasped, breathing hard. He ran a rough hand up Cas's spine, savoring the feeling of being buried in him.

Before Dean had a chance to think, Cas had picked up a rhythm, fucking himself hard on Dean's dick. His ass smacked loudly against Dean's thighs, the sound indecent and arousing. 

In an embarrassingly short period of time, Dean could feel his orgasm building low in his belly. He pushed his hips forward slightly, bowing his back a little, and grabbed Cas's hips, his fingers running over the angel's sinful hipbones.

“Cas...” Dean panted, dangerously close to orgasm. “Lemme see you. I have to see you.”

Cas pulled off of Dean a little, then rolled over to his back. He was barely out of breath, but his hair was tousled in the way that Dean loved. His dick was still painfully hard, and the whole tip was slick with pearly precome. Those blue eyes pierced straight to Dean's soul.

Dean picked up his own rhythm, watching Cas's cock bounce with every thrust of his hips. Cas closed his eyes, moaning loudly, and his tongue came to rest between his lips.

Dean shifted, thrusting up and hitting Cas's prostate. Almost immediately, Cas came untouched, strings of white covering his chest, Dean's groin, and the bed around them as his cock bounced freely between them.

At the sight of Cas's ecstacy, Dean followed, thrusting as deep as he could into Castiel's tight ass as he came. When he finished, he collapsed on the bed beside Cas.

“Fuck.”

Cas frowned, looking over at Dean. “You have a dirty mouth.”

Dean chuckled. “Well, you're a dirty angel.”

Cas closed his eyes. “Mmm.”  
__________  
Sam glared over the top of the newspaper, then sighed and slapped it down on the table in front of them. “Found us a case.”

Dean realized he had been staring at Castiel for several minutes when Sam spoke, and he unwillingly tore his gaze away. He coughed, clearing his throat.

“Oh, yeah? Great.”

“Yeah. Sure you two aren’t too tired for a road trip?” Sam took a sip of his coffee, shooting them a knowing look.

Cas’s brow furrowed, and he looked as if he was about to speak before a blushing Dean beat him to it.

“No!” He said exaggeratedly, huffing an embarrassed laugh. “We’re up for it. Right Cas?”

Cas nodded. “Of course.”

“Right.” Dean solidified, turning back to Sam. “So, what’d you find?”

Sam smirked, then tapped at the newspaper in front of him. “Ulysses, Kansas. Three deaths so far. Hearts ripped out of their chests.”

“You thinking werewolf?”

“Well, that was my first guess.” Sam leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “But the moon cycle doesn’t match.”

“Right, but there are exceptions to the moon rule.”

“Yeah, and that’s what I thought too, until I read that their partners committed the murders.”

Dean cocked his head. “As in, three separate murderers?”

“Yes. Victim number one: Sylvester Young. 83 years old, married to Janie, no children. Janie turned herself in immediately after committing the murder, and police found Sylvester lying in bed with a hole through his chest. Flannel pajamas, cane by the bed, false teeth on the bedside table, the whole nine. An 81-year-old woman is sitting in jail right now, with no recollection of what happened leading up to the murder. They’re saying dementia.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Huh. ‘S not often you see grandma ice grandpa.”

Sam groaned. “No, it’s not.”

“Yeah…” Dean bit his lip then let it slide out from between his teeth. “Victim number two?”

“Olivia Torres. 26 years old, married to Marion Torres, has a baby daughter. Same story. Marion turned himself in after killing Olivia by ripping her heart out of her chest. No recollection of the murder and he’s beside himself with grief.”

Dean clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “And vic number three?”

“47-year-old Wade Townsend. Two grown kids, one of which found him two days after the murder when he didn’t show up for work and they couldn’t reach him on the phone. They arrested his wife, Vivian, for the murder, who was found lying with Wade under a blanket on the floor. She was in shock. And of course…”

“Doesn’t remember a thing.”

“Exactly.”

“So what does that sound like to you?” Cas asked Sam in his deep register.

Sam rapped his knuckles once against the table. “No idea.”

Dean shrugged. “Shifter, maybe?”

“Maybe.” Sam looked unsure. “Yeah, I guess it could be.”

Dean nodded. “Okay then. Let’s check it out.”  
__________  
Dean tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as Sam opened the door to the Impala, sliding his large frame into the leather seat and closing the door behind him. Cas sat silently in the back seat.

“Well? What did the daughter have to say?”

Sam sighed. “Her name’s Layla. She just graduated from college. Said both of her parents attended her graduation at Averett University in Virginia last month and seemed happier than ever. In fact, she said they were perfect for each other. They met when they were 16, high school sweethearts, went off to college together, married at 22.” Sam shrugged, dropping his hands to his thighs. “Wade and Vivian Townsend were a seemingly perfect couple.”

“So in other words, no clear motive?”

“Exactly.”

Dean made an irritated sound in the back of his throat. “So what now?”

Sam took a deep breath, then blew it out through his nose. “Well. Vivian is being cared for in a psychiatric ward. Hasn’t said a word since she arrived. Not sure she’d be of much assistance.”

“Marion Torres?” Cas questioned from the back seat.

“Lawyered up.”

“What about the old lady? Whatsername…” Dean furrowed his brow, trying to remember.

“Young. Janie Young.”

Dean slapped the steering wheel. “Right! What about her?”

Sam shrugged again. “Worth a shot.”  
___________  
81-year-old Janie Young looked small and frail seated behind a large metal table in the interrogation room. Her oversized glasses sat crooked on her gaunt face, and her white hair laid in whispy curls around her face. The prison jumpsuit hung loosely off her bony shoulders, and she was slouched forward slightly, with her skeletal hands clasped together and resting on the table. She was shivering slightly when the men entered, despite the room being on the warmer side.

Cas spoke first. “Hello, Mrs. Young.” He sat down at the table, absentmindedly pulling out the chairs on either side of him for Dean and Sam. “I'm Detective Beyonce, and these are Detectives Spears and Aguilera.”

Dean winced and shot an irritated look at Cas, who seemed oblivious to his annoyance.

Mrs. Young gave a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. The pop star names didn't seem to register with her, for which Dean was grateful. She fidgeted her hands a bit before answering.

“Hello.”

Dean sat slowly, followed by Sam. The woman was so frail and innocent that it seemed any quick movement may scare her away.

Dean spoke in a softer tone than normal. “Do you know why we’re here, Mrs. Young?”

“Please, call me Janie.”

Dean nodded. “Okay. Janie.”

Janie smiled again quickly, then glanced away. “I’d venture you’re here about Sylvester. To ask me why I killed him.”

The men were quiet, watching the old lady fidget before turning back to them.

“Well...yes, ma'am.” Sam finally solidified. “Just tell us anything you remember.”

“It's not as much as I'd like.” She whispered, her eyes cast down at the table. “But then, who would want to remember something so awful? I can't fathom why...what would've made me want to...” Janie trailed off, her voice breaking. She put a shaky hand over her mouth.

“It's okay, Mrs. Young. Take your time.” Sam reassured, placing a large hand briefly on the elderly lady's hand that still rested on the table.

“Janie.” The woman said again, a little sterner this time, and Dean smirked a little at her audacity.

Sam nodded, quirking a smile. “Of course.”

Janie paused for another beat before speaking. “I met Syl at a picture show when I was only 20 years old. I was working concessions, which I suppose at the time was not a job fit for a young girl. But Syl didn't seem to mind. He must've come up to my counter ten times that night with an empty tub of popcorn. Said he kept spilling it.” She laughed a little then, her smile finally reaching the wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. “I know it probably seems silly to you boys, but I knew that night I was going to marry Syl. I knew before I even found out his name.”

Dean shot a glance over at Cas, who was staring intently at Janie with squinted eyes. He was suddenly overwhelmed with affection for the blue-eyed man, and he felt his cheeks flush with heat as he remembered the first time he ever laid eyes on him in the barn. The fresh-faced angel with messy black locks, and the bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. Eyes that often starred in his dreams.

Janie smiled, Dean's blush not having gone unnoticed. “But I suppose you boys aren't here to listen to an old lady ramble about love at first sight. The night that I, uh...the night it-happened, we had just come home from dinner at the little Mexican place down the street, Alejandro’s. It was still early, around 7pm, so he sat in bed with one of his crossword puzzles. I settled in beside him, and began working on my cross-stitching. This was the typical evening in our household. I remember that Syl asked me what a four-letter word for 'hard to grab hold of” was, then...”

She raised a hand to her mouth again, and a single tear fell to the table.

“It's okay, Janie.” Sam comforted again. “What do you remember after that?”

“I....” Janie began, then swallowed hard before continuing, “I came to, and the first thing I registered was the...the stickiness...of the blood.” She let out a sob. “It was everywhere. I was so confused, I hadn't realized what happened, and when I turned to wake Syl...” She trailed off, sobbing harder.

“He was dead.” Cas affirmed, his expression hard.

Janie sniffed and nodded. “Yes. That's when I called the police.”

“But you confessed to the murder?” Dean asked, cocking an eyebrow. “I mean, you're not for sure what happened.”

“Well, it had to be me, didn't it? I was the only one there. The blood was on me.” The poor woman looked genuinely broken, shaking her head a little. When she spoke again, her voice was almost a whisper. “It had to be me.”

Sam gave her a wistful look, then nodded once. “Thank you, Janie. Let us know if you remember anything else.”

The men started to stand, then Janie's hand shot out and grabbed Dean's wrist. He slowly sank down in his seat as she stared at him with tear-filled eyes.

“You listen to me, you hear?” She began, her voice authoritative. “Don't you ever take love for granted. Ever.” She looked over at Cas, who was regarding her with a quizzical look. “If you're lucky enough to find what Syl and I had, you enjoy every precious moment. One day, they may not be here, and you'll regret every missed opportunity.”

Dean gave a nervous laugh. “Ma'am, I-”

“Listen to me, Detective, and you listen good. I loved Syl for 61 years, and I know the look when I see it. Don't you ever forget how it feels.” At that, she gave Dean's wrist a firm squeeze, then let go, settling back into her chair with her hands in her lap.

Dean cleared his throat. “Thank you for your help, Janie.”

Janie nodded, a sad smile gracing her lips.  
__________  
“That was…strange.” Cas said as the three of them piled back into the Impala.

“I think she was referring to us, huggy bear.” Dean chuckled, giving Cas a wink.

Cas considered that for a moment, then smiled. “Oh, I see. Because you like to stare at me when you think I’m not looking.”

Dean scoffed. “Whatever, dude. It’s like you make it your mission to kill me with eye sex. And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, using those bedroom eyes on me…”

“Guys, enough.” Sam winced, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s bad enough I have to hear you guys…professing your love to each other all night long. Spare me the mushiness.”

Dean rumbled a laugh. “What can I say? Dude’s no angel, Sammy.”

Sam groaned. “Can we focus on the case, please?”

Dean laughed again, throwing his head back. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Whaddaya got?”

“Okay, so I was looking back over the case files for Marion Torres and Wade Townsend, and the only connection I can find is that they all ate at the same restaurant the night of the murders.” Sam rustled with some of the papers, skimming the text on one page before pointing. “Alejandro’s.”

Cas frowned. “Do you think it’s some sort of….demonic….food?”

This time it was Sam who laughed. “Uh, that’d be a first. But I doubt it, Cas. More likely some kind of hex.”

“So…witch?”

“It’s possible.”

Dean turned the key in the ignition, his Baby starting up with a loud growl. “Well let’s go check out the restaurant and see what we can find.”  
____________  
Alejandro’s was a dinky restaurant in a boring brick building that held no romantic ambiance of any kind. However, the locals who crowded the restaurant during the busy lunch hour insisted the Mexican restaurant had the best food within the confines of the small town.

Cas seemed distracted, looking around the quaint restaurant with his signature look of confusion, his brow furrowed and eyes squinted. As Sam was questioning a young couple, Dean noticed Cas walk slowly away, transfixed on something in the corner of the restaurant.

Cas finally stopped and stared a few moments before raising his fingers to his forehead, listening. Dean’s heart leapt, knowing Cas was possibly getting them information only he could hear.

Dean quietly excused himself and rushed to Cas, placing a hand on the angel’s arm.

“Cas? What is it?”

Cas frowned harder, his eyes closed. “I’m not sure.”

“But…you can hear it? Whatever this is, it’s angelic?”

Cas sighed and dropped his hand from his forehead, opening his eyes. “Yes. Yes, I think so. I’m picking up on waves of one of the lower-level angels. Perhaps a cherub.”

Dean mulled that over. “A cupid?”

“Possibly.”

“But the last time we dealt with a cupid it was actually famine dropping bodies.”

“Yes.”

“But famine’s dead.”

“Yes.”

Dean frowned. “So…”

Cas sighed again with a quick roll of his eyes. “So it’s not famine. This is different.”

“So you’re thinking it’s a rogue cupid? For real this time?” Dean asked hopefully.

Cas nodded. “Yes. But he’s powerful. More powerful than a typical cherub.”

“How?”

Cas pressed his lips into a hard line. “I don’t know.”

“Cas, you got something?” Sam said from behind them, and they both turned to face him.

“He thinks it’s the anti-cupid.” Dean chimed in, and Cas threw him an irritated look.

“A cherub.” He reiterated, his voice gruff. “A rogue angel.”

“So he’s seeking out happy couples and making them kill each other?” Sam asked, an incredulous look on his face. “But why?”

“Some men just wanna watch the world burn.” Dean mumbled in a faux British accent, making Cas grin.

Sam huffed. “Guys.”

“What?” Cas asked defensively. “I understood that reference.” Dean smiled boyishly.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay, there were three deaths in three nights. Chances are, whatever this is, it’ll be back tonight.”

Dean nodded hard. “So we’ll come back tonight.”  
____________  
The tiny restaurant was impossibly crowded that night, full of families and couples of all ages. The three men were squeezed into a small booth in the back corner of the restaurant.

Dean ordered himself a beer and queso dip, despite the judgmental comments from both Sam and Cas about his eating habits.

“He here yet, babe?” Dean asked through a mouthful of chips, causing crumbs to litter the front of his shirt.

Cas made a face. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Dean rolled his eyes, finished chewing, then swallowed. “So…what? Are you going to tether him, like before?”

“If I have the power to do so, yes.”

Dean nodded in understanding then shoved another cheese-soaked chip into his mouth, washing it down with a long swig of his beer.

“Cas, aren’t you, I don’t know…worried? About how powerful this cherub is?” Sam asked, sipping slowly at his own beer.

“It is cause for concern. I’ve never met one this powerful before.”

“No, I mean…” Sam huffed a frustrated sigh, “you and Dean. You don’t worry about this guy affecting that?”

Cas frowned, his squinted eyes regarding Sam. “That type of power has no effect on me. I’m immune, if you will.”

“Right, but Dean…”

Cas cut him off, his voice hard and commanding. “Dean will not be joining me in dealing with the cherub. Dean will stay right here at this table, and eat his heart attack-inducing food.”

Dean frowned at that, looking taken aback. “Hey, wait a minute…”

“It wasn't a suggestion.” Cas said in a menacing tone, cutting his eyes over at Dean.

Dean scoffed. “Whatever.” He went back to his food, trying to look disinterested, but he found Cas's hand under the table and squeezed it. Cas squeezed back.

The exchange went unnoticed, Sam oblivious as he stole more small sips from his chilled beer.

“So Cas, what are you planning to do to this guy?”

Suddenly Cas began to feel the force of a powerful presence. His chest was tight with the force of the power pressing into his grace, filling his body with a sense of alertness and dread. His head became filled with images of people in the restaurant, then of a small room in the back of the building that held various food products and kitchenware. He stiffened, his angel radio going haywire with the power of the cherub.

“Excuse me.” He said abruptly, then he slid out of the booth, his fingers sliding down Dean's and eventually detaching from each other as he departed.

“Wha-” Dean started, but Cas was out of earshot before he finished his question, making his way to a door leading to the storage room of the restaurant.

The cherub's presence became exponentially stronger once Cas entered the storage room, and he scanned the room until he honed in on the source of the power, in a dark corner of the space. He held out a hand and concentrated all his efforts on willing the celestial being to remain in the room, his grace acting as a magnetic force pulling his angelic brother back to him.

“Show yourself.” Cas growled, and he gave one last particularly hard pull at his grace.

There was a small whooshing of wings and suddenly standing in front of him was a strikingly handsome man with black hair and tanned skin, naked save for the black boxer shorts which fit snuggly around his hips and muscular thighs. He was tall, about Cas's height, and he had an extremely fit physique. His face was framed with a manicured beard and his eyes were lined black. He sported a silver piercing in his left eyebrow, a black one through his bottom lip, and diamond studs in both ears. This man looked nothing like the cherubs Cas had come to know in all his years of living.

“Castiel.” The cherub said smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. He raised the pierced brow. “How nice to finally meet you. I've heard stories. You're- pretty well known in our little corner of Heaven.”

“You know of me?”

He smirked. “Well, I did. Wouldn't know much now about what goes on up there in God's little kingdom.”

Cas clenched his jaw. “Well, I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I don't know who you are.”

“Of course you don't. Those in your rank don't think too highly of us 'third-tier' angels.”

Cas stepped forward slowly, keeping a careful eye on the stranger. “Who are you?”

“They know me as Roderick.” He gave a devilish smile, then made a grand gesture with his hands as he took a small bow. “Your friendly neighborhood cupid.”

Castiel scoffed. “Friendly?”

“Well, I suppose it's all in how you interpret it.” Roderick's eyes glistened as his smile widened. “For example, these people...the lovers...I'm doing them a favor.”

“How's that?”

“Curing them of their human weakness, of course.” Roderick said, as if it was obvious. “These men and women...there's something within them...something that calls out to me. The weakness that wants...no, needs to be cured. Their devotion is enormous. The things they would do for their loves...unimaginable things. Their devotion is their downfall.”

“Love is powerful. But it's your job to protect it.” Cas said, his brow furrowing.

“Ah, yes, but at what cost?! That type of devotion cannot be trusted, Castiel. We've seen that type of devotion destroy people...families. Look what it did to Lucifer.” Roderick met Cas's eyes. “Look what it did to you.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

Roderick scoffed, then turned and began fiddling with a can opener on one of the stainless steel tables. “Oh, please, Castiel. No need to be coy with me.”

Cas knew what Roderick was getting at, but he refused to let him bring Dean into the conversation. He stood quietly for a moment, watching Roderick fiddle with random kitchen devices, before speaking again.

“Where are you getting your power?”

Roderick dropped a metal ladle back on the table and turned to face him again. “Well, from Heaven, of course.”

“But...were you not cast out?”

Roderick shrugged. “You're right. But some of my power remained. And I met a witch in my travels who was willing to assist me. A simple exchange...a power boost for a couple of neat little trinkets from God's pantry.”

Cas was silent, regarding the cherub warily.

Roderick gave a small laugh. “Oh, Castiel. Don't you see? These humans are a threat. Their devotion is a threat. These people were prepared to die for their loved ones. They would’ve killed for them.” He paused, shaking his head. “No one man should be so wholly committed to anyone that way. That emotion is too…powerful.”

“So you’re intimidated by it. Because you don’t understand it.”

Anger flashed across Roderick’s face, but he quickly composed it and gave another smug grin. “I suppose you do, then?”

Cas said nothing, and instead cast his eyes away from the cherub’s sinister expression.

“Dean Winchester!” Roderick exclaimed with an amused look. He walked slowly over to Cas, running his hand idly along the steel table as he passed. He leaned in close to Cas, his lips almost brushing his ear.

“Was he worth defying our Father for?”

Before Roderick had a chance to react, Cas swung a clenched fist and it connected with Roderick’s chiseled jaw, sending him stumbling sideways.

Roderick regained his balance, rubbing at his jaw. He laughed. “I see Winchester strikes a nerve for you. In more ways than one, eh?” He taunted, waggling his eyebrows.

Castiel stepped forward, his hand extended, and with a blast Roderick was thrown backwards into the steel shelving, pots and pans clattering to the ground behind him and he slid to the floor.

Cas heard the sound of running behind him, and turned in time to see Dean burst through the door to the storage pantry. 

“Cas!” Dean looked bewildered. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” Cas said through clenched teeth. “Dean, get out of here. Now.”

“Not a chance.” Dean said quickly, scanning Cas for injuries.

“Dean.”

“I’m staying.” Dean confirmed, raising his eyebrows at Cas.

Still slumped against the floor, Roderick laughed. 

“You’re going to let him defy you like that, Castiel?” He mocked with a devilish grin. “You’re even worse than I expected.”

“Excuse me?” Dean spat, stepping forward as Roderick pulled himself up off the ground, rubbing his neck.

“Dean, don’t..” Cas started, but before he could finish Roderick had closed the distance between him and Dean, grabbing Dean by his neck and pushing him back against the wall.

“No!” Cas shouted, charging at the cherub.

Roderick turned back to Cas again, laughing. He reached out his free hand, spreading his fingers widely. Cas stopped dead in his tracks, physically unable to move any closer. He gritted his teeth as he attempted to push against the invisible current holding him back.

Arm still extended, Roderick turned back to Dean, their faces merely inches apart. 

“Well he is a pretty one, Castiel.” Roderick said condescendingly. 

Cas growled, struggling against the unseen restraints.

Roderick narrowed his eyes at Dean, then in a whisper: “What’s so special about you?”

Dean clenched his jaw.

“I. Don’t. Know.” He snapped, clawing at the stronger man’s grip around his throat.

“I worry…” Roderick mused, “that Castiel’s judgement may be clouded by his feelings for you. Surely that would put a damper on the way he handles his work.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean choked in the most menacing voice his strained voice could muster.

Roderick blinked at Dean a few times, chewing absentmindedly at the black lip piercing. “Well, because he’s an angel, of course. We’re not allowed to love humans for a reason. Not because we’re a danger to you. No, it’s because you’re a danger to us.”

“Roderick, please...” Cas pleaded, his face pained.

“Oh, don't worry, Castiel.” Roderick rolled his eyes. “I'm not going to kill your pretty little pet. He's too...important. It would be terribly unsatisfying to simply kill him now.”

Cas cocked his head. 

“What do you mean, Roderick?” Cas asked, his voice strained. “What are you going to do?”

Roderick gave a wicked smile. “Perhaps you'll thank me one day, Castiel.”

At that, Roderick captured Dean's gaze with his own, and his eyes began glowing a lilac purple. Dean was mesmerized, and he stopped his struggle, his hands dropping limply to his sides.

“Bams loncho ol ladnah.” Roderick chanted seductively. “Bams...bams...bams...”

Then Roderick held Dean's face in his hands, releasing his hold on Castiel, and crushed their lips together.

“NO!” Castiel shouted, and Roderick turned and gave another evil smile before disappearing.

Dean collapsed against the wall, knocked out cold. Cas attempted to tether Roderick once more, but it was too late. He was already gone.

Cas rushed to Dean's side as Sam burst into the room, brandishing an angel blade.

“What the hell happened?” He boomed as he spotted Cas kneeling beside Dean's unconscious body.

“Roderick.” Cas said through gritted teeth. “Where were you?!”

“Dean, he...” Sam shook his head, his anger beginning to dissipate. “I wouldn't let him follow you so he handcuffed me to the damn table!”

Cas turned his attention back to Dean, cradling his head gently.

Sam shuffled over to them and kneeled down as well. “So what happened?”

“Roderick, he cast a spell of some sort. In Enochian.”

“What spell?”

“Bams loncho ol ladnah.” Cas said, anger playing in his voice. “Forget all you know.”

“He...” Sam frowned, shaking his head a little. “The same spell he cast on the partners of the victims?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Well then...Cas, we have to...we have to get you somewhere safe until...”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“Cas...”

Cas whipped back around and gave Sam a hard stare. “I'm. Not. Going. Anywhere.”

Sam pursed his lips, but nodded. “Okay. Yeah, okay, Cas.”

Cas turned back to Dean, his face soft. “Dean...” He shook him lightly.

“Hmm?” Dean finally said, his eyes fluttering open. He groaned. “Cas?”

Cas smiled. “Yeah, yeah, it's me.”

“Hey.” Dean smiled back, patting Cas on his hand. He sat up straight, his eyes darting around the room. “What happened?”

“Roderick, he...he cast some sort of Enochian spell on you.” Cas clenched his jaw.

“No...” Dean's voice cracked and he looked up at Cas, his eyes wild. “Cas...”

“Don't worry.” Sam assured, giving him a slap on the shoulder. “We'll stop it. Now come on, let's go hit the books.”

The two men threw Dean's arms over their shoulders and hoisted him to his feet.

Dean looked warily around the room. “I'll go...start the car.”

He looked back and forth between his brother and his angel, then turned and left the room.

Cas began to follow, but Sam grabbed his shoulder.

“Cas.”

Cas sighed and turned to face the younger Winchester. “Yeah?”

“What if...” He began, then chewed his lip nervously. “What if we can't stop it? I mean, this spell obviously works fast. If this is the same spell as the one that affected Janie, then his projected time frame is...”

“Tonight.” Cas interrupted, heaving another heavy sigh. “Yeah, I know.”

“You can't be with him.”

“I can't leave him.”

Sam made an irritated noise. “Okay, well, then I'm going to be there. I'm not leaving you alone with him.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Cas looked up at Sam. Suddenly, Sam looked ages older. 

“Cas...do you think there will be anything in the lore about this?”

Cas turned away, trying to conceal his uneasiness. “I don't know. We can only hope.”

With that, Cas shuffled out of the room, leaving Sam standing there, not feeling confident at all about the situation with which they were now faced.  
_____________  
Before they even got back to the hotel, Dean had already forgotten his relationship to Cas once. With a small reminder and assurance from Sam, he was reconvinced. He cried, and Cas held him the rest of the way to their hotel room, stroking his hair as Dean's tears soaked the lapel of his trench coat.

If Cas could cry, he would have.

Once back at the hotel, the three of them gathered around numerous books of lore. Dean called every hunter he knew, but none of them knew anything on the topic of cherub magic. Especially when the variable of a witch was thrown into the equation.

Dean slammed the book he was reading shut, causing both Cas and Sam to jump.

“FUCK!” He exclaimed as he jumped up and began pacing the room. He grabbed fistfuls of his hair and threw his head back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Dean...” Cas started calmly.

“Dont 'Dean' me!” Dean wheeled around to face Cas. “I'm gonna forget you, Cas! I'm gonna forget you, and I'm gonna try to kill you. And we can't stop it! We can't stop any of it!”

“We'll figure it out, Dean.” Sam said softly, closing his own book.

“When, huh?” Dean threw his hands up, then let them fall back to his sides. “It's going to happen anytime now. I'll just be sitting here, and it's going to happen.” His voice quivered, and he bit his lip, attepting to hold back more tears. He sat on the edge of the bed and scrubbed both of his hands down his face, then let them fall, his elbows still resting on his knees. 

Both Sam and Cas were at a loss for words. For information. For anything.

“Cas, I...” Dean started, his voice breaking. A tear slid down his cheek. “I want you to know...”

“Don't. Don't say it.” Cas said sternly, shaking his head. “We're going to stop it. So just don't.”

Dean scoffed, then glared at him through his glassy eyes. “Cas, shut up and listen to me. Please.”

Cas opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. 

Dean nodded absentmindedly. “I want you to know that I'd never intentionally hurt you.”

“I know that, Dean.”

“And that time with the Mark, when I did, I'm sorry.”

“I know that, too.”

Dean hung his head. “It's the last thing I'd ever...” His voice broke again, and he cleared his throat, then continued. “The last thing I'd ever want to do.”

Cas was silent.

Dean looked back up at Cas, capturing his cobalt blue eyes with his own. “I love you, Cas. I want you to know that. I know I've never actually...said it. But it needs to be said.”

Cas's eyes softened. “I love you, too.”

Dean gave a small smile, then sniffled. “Damn, it's good to hear you say that.” He wiped a tear away with the back of his hand.

“Okay, Dean...” Cas started, but Dean interrupted.

“I'm not done yet. I want you to know, whenever I picture myself happy...like, really happy...it's with you.” He blinked a few times, his tongue coming to rest between his teeth. “I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it. I'm sorry it took something like this for me to say it.”

“I understand, Dean.”

Dean chuckled a little, his voice thick. “Yeah, I know you do.”

“We're going to get you through this. If we can't find a cure, we'll just help you through it. Until we can find Roderick and break the spell.” Sam chimed in, trying to sound hopeful.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Dean wiped his face again, then stood up and crossed the room, stopping in front of Cas's chair. Sam stiffened nervously.

“Dude, chill. I'm fine.” Dean laughed a little, then grabbed Cas's face, bent down, and kissed him.

“Hey, I'm going to get a burger. Best I'm not here for awhile anyway, huh?” He gave a half-hearted laugh, wiping away the remainder of his tears, then grabbed his keys and left the room.

The two men sat in silence for several moments before Sam cleared his throat.

“That was huge, Cas.” He said, his eyebrows raised. “Dean has never told anyone he loved them. Not even me. Never actually said it before. He just...doesn't.”

Cas sighed and stared at the door Dean walked out of. 

“I know.”  
_____________  
Half an hour later, the two men heard the tell-tale roar of Baby's engine outside the motel room. Keys jingled as Dean shuffled to the door, then the sound of a key sliding into the lock.

Dean opened the door, then closed it behind him and turned around, his eyes landing on Cas. He frowned.

“Who the hell are you??” He demanded, squaring his shoulders.

Cas winced. “Dean, it's me...”

“How do you know my name? I don't know you.” Dean said angrily, dropping his keys and bag of food and starting towards the angel.

Sam stood up quickly, holding his hands out. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, Dean! It's Cas!”

Dean stopped, his brow furrowing. “I don't know a Cas.”

Cas stepped back some, his face falling. That hurt more than he was expecting. It was like a punch in the gut. It felt worse than dying.

Sam stepped between them, holding his hands against Dean's chest. “Yes, you do! Cas- he's our friend! Your boyfriend!”

Dean paused. “That's ridiculous.”

“No, it's not. It's true.” Sam said breathlessly, still holding him back. 

“Move out of my way, Sam.” Dean said darkly. “I don't want to hurt you.”

Sam shoved Dean backwards a little. “No, Dean. I'm getting you through this.”

“Sammy...”

“Dean, I won't let you do this! You'll never forgive yourself!”

Dean pulled back and quirked a smile at Sam, then threw a muscled arm in his direction, the punch landing square on his nose. Blood immediately began streaming from Sam's face, but he continued holding back his older brother. 

Dean continued throwing punches, each one landing expertly along Sam's face and torso. He rared back and threw an exceptionally hard punch that landed beside Sam's right eye, and Sam crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

“Dean!” Cas cried, his face pained. “Dean, it's me! You have to remember.” 

Dean advanced, his shoulders tense, Sam's blood dripping from his knuckles. His face was hard. Cas backed up until the back of his knees his the top of the entertainment center. 

Dean stopped right in front of Cas and cocked his head to the side. “I don't know you.”

“Yes, Dean, you do. It's me! I saved you from Hell. I've been your best friend for eight years. I'm in love with you.”

Dean threw a punch, splitting Cas's lip.

“Dean!”

Another punch.

“Dean, don't do this!”

Another punch, blackening Cas's eye. Cas sank to the floor.

Then, an unexpected moment of clairty.

“FIGHT BACK!” Dean screamed, landing more punches to Cas's already bloodied face. His voice was conflicted. “CAS!”

Cas sucked in a shaky breath, tasting blood. 

“I won't hurt you.” He rasped, spitting blood.

“CAS!” Dean cried again. “I CAN'T-”

He threw a hard punch.

“STOP-”

Another punch.

“MYSELF!”

And another.

Cas slumped over, the carpet below him soaked in his blood. Dean kneeled to the floor and grabbed Cas by his collar, pulling him up to his face. Cas felt him pull his angel blade out of the inside pocket of his coat.

Dean's face was hard, feral, and unfeeling. His dead eyes searched Cas's face, then came to rest at his eyes.

Another moment of realization flashed across Dean's face, and for a split second, Cas knew everything was going to be okay. Dean's eyes focused, and Cas knew that he saw him. Really saw him. The man inside the vessel. Cas stared deeply into Dean's soul; the most beautiful soul he'd ever seen.

Then the moment was gone.

“I'm sorry.” Dean whispered, and he plunged the blade into Cas's heart.

Cas's mouth went slack, and the white-hot blinding pain overtook him. He could feel his insides imploding, and the last thing he saw was Dean's soulful green eyes lighting up, in much the same way that they did when the sun hit them.

Cas thought Dean looked beautiful like that.  
_____________  
Dean squeezed his eyes shut tightly, and when he opened them he was still seeing spots. He blinked several times, trying to absolve them from his vision.

When his vision was clear, he saw Cas lying motionless in front of him. 

“C-Cas?”

Dean was grasping an angel blade with white knuckles, and he dropped it to the carpet. He shifted a little and noticed that he was kneeling in a pool of blood. Cas's blood.

“Nonononononononono...Cas!”

He pitched himself forward, bringing both of his hands to Cas's face. Cas didn't move.

“CAS!” His voice broke. 

That's when he noticed the black print on the wall...the long, ashy burn mark of feathers. 

The mark of Cas's wings.

He sobbed loudly, tears springing to his eyes. He fisted a hand through Cas's soft jet-black hair, then rubbed a thumb down his stubbled face.

Then it all came flooding back to him.

His admission of love, his ride home from the burger joint, him knocking Sam unconscious, him beating the shit out of Cas...

Him stabbing Cas in the chest and watching the life leave his beautiful blue eyes.

He slunk down, sobbing uncontrollably, and buried his face in Cas's chest. He cried hard, sobbing silently until he was forced to take large, gasping breaths. 

After what seemed like hours, he couldn't cry anymore. His eyes were swollen and burning. His cheeks were tight with dried tears. His heart ached.  
The pain was unbearable. 

He shifted to pull Cas's trench coat out from under him, and he wrapped it around his body as he pressed himself closer to the dead angel.

And for some reason, unbeknownst even to him, Dean began to sing. He sang one of the songs his own mother sang to him at night, when she put him to bed, right after she told him about how the angels watched over him.

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night...”

He raised his head a little, looking up at the only man he'd ever loved. His angel. 

He pressed their lips together, willing to feel Cas's presence one more time. 

Cas's lips were cold.

Dean sobbed once more, then settled back onto Cas's chest, letting the tears soak into the stupid blue tie Cas always wore. His words were barely comprehensible as he continued to sing, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Take these broken wings and learn to fly...”  
___________  
Sam came to, the sound of someone singing filling the otherwise quiet space. Someone sniffled.

Oh, no. No no no no no.

Sam shot up and looked around, his eyes falling on an unmoving mass in the corner.

He stood up, his eyes welling with tears, and made his way to his brother and Cas's vessel.

Dean was singing softly to Cas, his eyes closed. He was laying with Cas's lifeless body, half wrapped in part of Cas's trench coat.

“Dean...” Sam said quietly, bending down and gently touching Dean's arm.

Dean stopped singing. After a moment, he opened his eyes. They were red and blood shot. Dead eyes.

“Dean, come on. Let's get you up.” A tear rolled down Sam's nose.

“No.”

“Come on, Dean.” Sam insisted a little more urgently.

“NO.”

More tears filled Sam's eyes, and he was finding it hard to see. He grabbed Dean's arm, pulling him away from Cas.

“Dean...”

“NO!” Dean screamed. “SAM, NO!”

Sam ignored him, grabbing his torso and hauling both of them to their feet, leaving Cas's alone on the floor.

“NONONONONO...” Dean repeated. “I can't leave him, Sammy! Don't make me leave him!”

Sam lowered Dean to a sitting position on the bed and sat beside him, wrapping his long arms around his big brother's torso and rocking him slightly.

“Cas...” Dean cried, gasping for breath between his tears and anguished screams. “H-he's my b-baby, Sammy. He's my baby.”

Sam squeezed his brother tighter, fighting back more tears of his own. 

“I love him! I need him to know...” Dean began to fight again, attempting to wrestle himself out of Sam's grasp.

“He knows, Dean!” Sam said, his voice thick. “He knows. He'll always know.”

Dean shook his head vigorously back and forth. “No, Sammy, he'll never know...just how much...”

“Dean, I promise you, he knows.”

Dean hiccuped, and his muscles began to relax some. He sniffed loudly.

“How am I supposed to live with myself after this, Sammy?” Dean whispered. His voice was small.

“We'll figure it out, Dean. Together.” Sam nodded. “Cas would want that. He would want you to move on. Kill the bad guy. Save people.”

Dean stared ahead at Cas's unmoving body, then nodded slowly. He spun the black ring on his left ring finger. The one Cas had given him the night in Vegas when they snuck off to a cheap chapel on the strip and got married.

“Yeah.” Dean confirmed. “He was a Winchester. It's what we do.”


End file.
